


Unwanted friendships

by Perversion_Incarnate



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Human Revolution, Deus Ex: Mankind Divided
Genre: Adam's hidden cooking skills, Arguing, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, Bar fights, Bickering, Developing Friendships, Drinking & Talking, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Explicit Language, Fights, Fist Fights, Frenemies, Gen, Humor, Hungover idiots, MacReady and Pritchard being idiots, MacReady's dating tips, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Violence, Sex Talk, Sexual Humor, Sharing a Bed, Yes Jensen you do need friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-02-09 12:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18638026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perversion_Incarnate/pseuds/Perversion_Incarnate
Summary: !!Set post-MD so beware, spoilers for the ending of the main game + the System rift DLC included!!Just a little idea that wouldn't leave me alone. A bit of Pritchard and MacReady laughing at Adam's expense because no matter what the poor guy does, he just can't catch a break. Ever.





	1. Jensen walks into a bar...

It was close to 9, the neon lights of the Red Queen illuminating the sidewalk. Adam stood in the glow, a lit cigarette in hand, wondering if this was really such a good idea. It still wasn't too late to gather himself and head back home... He breathed out a puff of smoke, the motion a sigh more than anything. Right, bullshit. Not wanting to be alone with his thoughts was why he came here in the first place. It was either that or sitting in his apartment with a bottle of whiskey while he silently despised his health implant for preventing him from getting drunk. He snorted. Sarif always claimed to have the highest quality augs and yet he never thought of installing an off switch into that damn thing...

Taking one last drag from his cigarette, he tossed it on the ground and crushed it with the heel of his boot. He wasn't particularly fond of the Red Queen or the Red Light District in general, but he couldn't afford to be picky. It was one of the few joints in the city that tolerated Augs and ever since he's done that favor for the owner, one of the few joints where no one would bother him if he just sat in a corner somewhere and minded his own business. Not wanting to waste any more time standing around, he headed inside.

Music and red lights greeted him, followed by a dancer on the elevated stage and a set of seats occupied by some patrons. Calling her outfit skimpy would be an understatement and the looks those men were giving her told him pretty much everything there was to tell. Ignoring it all, he went straight to the bar where the bartender with almost as little clothing as the dancer greeted him. It was the same woman that was there when he visited the Red Queen for the first time.

“Welcome back, handsome. It's been a while.”

The fact that she remembered him probably surprised him a little more than it should have.

“What'll it be?” the woman continued.

“I'll have some Nye's Rye.” he rumbled in response. “Make it double.”

“Coming right up.” said the bartender, turning her back to him.

Adam leaned against the counter, his arms now resting on top of it. He waited for her to hand him his drink, paid the amount she requested and gulped it down in one go. The burning sensation in his throat felt comforting, even if it lasted for just a moment. Savoring the lightheadedness that came after the liquor reached his stomach, he set the glass aside. It all ended within what felt like a minute, tops. Somewhat frustrated, he looked up at the bartender.

“Hit me again.” he said.

“Feeling very thirsty tonight I see.” she answered as she reached for the bottle and started pouring him his drink.

Adam inclined his head as he heard someone sauntering towards the bar. The person was right behind him, probably quite drunk judging by the way he shuffled his feet.

“Could I get two beers, darlin'?” spoke up a voice over his shoulder.

Adam recognized that British lilt instantly. Almost groaning, he bowed his head and stared at the polished wood under his hands, hoping that his colleague wouldn't notice him. Much like always, luck didn't seem to be on his side.

“Well, I'll be damned... Jensen! What are you doing here, mate?” inquired MacReady as he leaned against the counter right next to him and nudged him in the shoulder. Judging by his overly cheerful demeanor and the stench of alcohol in his breath he must've been shitfaced by now and Adam couldn't help but envy him for that. He nodded a thanks to the bartender and passed her some credits as she handed him his drink before actually turning his attention to the man next to him.

“I could ask you the same thing, MacReady. I'm especially curious about what happened to your face.” he answered as he noticed a rather nasty gash across Mac's forehead. It was still bleeding and as far as Adam could tell the other man either didn't care about it or hasn't noticed.

“Oh, this? Funny story, really.” chuckled the Brit. “I was grabbing a seat over there in the corner and accidentally spilled some bloke's beer. He was quite on the lanky side, pale, looked like the type who'd just shrug it off or something. I apologized and for a second it looked like he'd really just let it go, but!” Mac raised his finger as if to add weight to his words. “Here comes the fun part. That son of a bitch reached for his pint and glassed me! Right there! Right in my goddamned face! For such a skinny little shit he had balls, I gotta give him that!”

Adam shook his head with a sigh. He knew exactly what was coming.

“Bastard took me by surprise, but I still punched him in the face!” continued Mac in a tone as if he was commenting a sports match. “Gave him some nice eye shadow to go with that petite feminine look of his! Fell to the ground like rag doll, I'm telling you!”

“Let me guess, you didn't leave it at that.” proclaimed Adam sarcastically just as the bartender placed Mac's order on the counter.

“No one glasses me and gets away with it, Jensen!” argued Mac vehemently. “Put it on my tab, sweetheart.” he drawled to her.

“So now there's a dead body lying around here somewhere?” asked Adam casually.

“Nah, the idiot's still breathing. I'm buying him a beer.” answered Mac. “It's why I'm taking two.”

“I know I'm gonna regret asking this, but why?” inquired Adam as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass.

“Well, that punch is what started our scuffle. As he hit the ground I went to finish him, thought he doesn't stand a chance. Seriously, poor sod's skinny as a rake, lying spread out like one of those weird animal rugs...you can imagine, right?” said Mac, his eyes glinting with the thrill. “So I walk up to him and he curls in on himself, looks like he's about to start screaming or crying or both. I reach out to grab him and the bastard pulls out a stun gun! I'm tellin' you, mate, he almost got me!” he continued, his mouth spreading into a savage grin. Mac sure loved his drunken bar fights. “I went easy on him and just got him into a chokehold. Was nice enough to offer him a drink and since it was either that or lights out, he agreed! He deserves a beer for trying, right? I mean, starting a fight you can't win that doesn't take just balls, it takes _insane_ balls!”

“Looks like your charm has won you another friend, MacReady.” commented Adam, his voice laden with sarcasm again.

“Honestly? I just wanna drink him under the table to beat him twice.” snorted Mac. “Tell you what Jensen, you can come over and join us if you'd like. He's an American like you, could be interesting.”

Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed the beers and sauntered away.

Adam stared after him, his drink still untouched. It wasn't that uncommon for Americans to visit cities like Prague so MacReady's new drinking buddy could be literally anyone. Adam wasn't even remotely the social type but his curiosity got the better of him. He came here to distract himself anyway so as MacReady's back got lost behind a pair of guys, he engaged his smart vision and tracked him to one of the tables in the corner where indeed there was a guy waiting for him. Switching the aug off, he grabbed his drink and headed towards the two guys MacReady pushed past on his way. With any luck he'd be able to take a peek at the table without coming too close.

The guys were evidently locals as they stood right in front of the stage,ogling the dancer and talking to each other in Czech. Adam stopped right next to them and took a sip from his drink, pretending to be looking at the dancer as well. His head was turned towards the stage but his eyes darted to the side in search of MacReady's table. He caught a glimpse of it with his parallel vision and turned his head a little. Just enough to get a better look and to still make it seem like he's focused on the stage. MacReady was sitting on the left, passing one of the beers over to his companion. Adam's gaze traveled to the other man just as he took another sip from his drink and he almost spat it back out. No way in hell! It couldn't be! He turned his head sideways to stare at them directly, refusing to believe his eyes. Opposite of MacReady sat none other than Frank Pritchard. Sure, he had a nasty case of a black eye and his jacket clung to him a little more loosely than Adam remembered but the sickly white skin, messy ponytail and grumpy look on his face were unmistakable.

Adam's thoughts went racing. What was Pritchard doing here and why was he starting fights with MacReady out of all people? Has he finally gone insane? He sure looked much worse than last time they spoke to each other... Adam swatted the thought away. Expecting Pritchard to take care of himself was pretty much the equivalent of expecting a lion to suddenly start eating grass and despite their differences over the years, he was still one of the most reliable people Adam knew. There had to be a reason for him being here and he intended to find out what it was. If MacReady wasn't exaggerating his story too much, Pritchard was probably absolutely wasted because as far as Adam knew, he'd never have the nerve to attack anyone if he was sober. All the better for him, if Pritchard was drunk he'd be much more open to answering his questions. Or just double up his usual snark routine. Downing the rest of his drink, Adam headed towards the table. It took as little as a few steps for him to be within hearing range of their conversation. At least in case of what MacReady was saying.

“So...you're a hacker? I should've known, you look like they pulled you straight out of a sci-fi novel. But how exactly did you work with Jensen?”

Adam mentally groaned at that and quickened his pace. Of course he'd be the subject of the conversation. Knowing MacReady, he probably told Pritchard that he ran into him the moment he sat down and knowing Pritchard, he was about to launch into a lengthy tirade about how he was always the superior Head of security back at Sarif.

“You've already expressed your complaints about what I look like before. And if you must know, I'm not just some hacker, I was the Head of Cyber Security back at Sarif. Jensen was the Head of Physical Security. I had to work with him on all kinds of things.” came Pritchard's answer. It was as snide as ever but he seemed to be tripping over his words a little. Definitely drunk... For a second it seemed like that would serve as his answer, but upon taking a swing from his beer he continued: “Jensen always thinks that looking threatening and beating people up solves everything, but you know where the real magic happens?” He let go of his pint and wiggled his fingers at Mac. “Right here. Jensen might make for a good attack dog but an attack dog is only as good as the one who's holding his leash and that was always me. I was the one who provided intel and...”

He went quiet the moment he noticed the change in Mac's expression. It went from a raised eyebrow to a shit-eating grin within the blink of an eye.

“...and he's standing right behind me, isn't he?” inquired Pritchard, his tone turning sour.

“Right you are, mate. Oh, this is just fucking priceless...wait till you see the look on his face!” chortled Mac.

“Hello, Francis, fancy seeing you around here.” proclaimed Adam nonchalantly. His brows were slightly arched, a scowl embedded into the entirety of his features.

Pritchard turned around in his chair, looking up to face him: “Hello, Jensen. Decided to do your moody loner schtick in public for a change?”

“Wait, your name's Francis?”

Mac's comment went ignored.

“Maybe. Came to see how your supposed attack dog's doing or is it a coincidence that you flew all the way from Detroit to Prague just a month after I cut contact with you?” prodded Adam snidely.

“The world doesn't revolve around you, Jensen. I won't pretend this city is off-limits for me just because you happen to live here.” replied Pritchard with an even larger portion of sarcasm.

“That doesn't answer my question.” commented Adam, unfazed.

“Lads.” Mac tried again.

“Look Jensen, you've made it clear last time that you want nothing to do with me so why I'm in Prague is none of your business.” said Pritchard tersely. “Right now, I went out for a drink because you're not the only one who's life's an absolute piece of shit. Is that enough to make you drop the cop routine or do I have to punch myself in the other eye too?”

Adam opened his mouth to retort, but it seemed like Mac's finally lost the last bits of his patience and got up to step between them.

“Alright you two, enough already!” he growled in his drill sergeant voice. “Jensen, I know how much of an arsehole you are most of the time so I don't even want to imagine what you did to make him this pissed at you.” He turned to Pritchard. “And you...I've only known you for the last few minutes but damn mate, you really are a piece of work. I think calling you a 'goddamned prick' sounds about right.” He clapped his hands together, his tone turning even more authoritative. “So, keeping in mind how both of you are absolutely insufferable...could we please keep this civil? Consider your answers carefully because I'll only ask once. After that I'll skip straight to the ass-kicking.”

“And here I thought Jensen was the primitive…” grumbled Pritchard.

Adam couldn't help but facepalm. How much did the idiot have to drink? Most importantly, why was he trying to rile MacReady up when he already received a beating to show for it?

“Pritchard, don't.” he rumbled in an attempt to save the situation.

Much to his surprise, Mac seemed to be amused rather than angry: “Look mate, as much as I enjoyed punching you in the face for the first time I'm not in the mood to do it again. When I fight I prefer an even match and you're not even close to that.” He turned to Adam. “Speaking of even do _you_ wanna try me or are you gonna get yourself another drink and restore my faith in your good manners instead?”

“Maybe I'll just walk away and leave you two to kill each other later.” offered Adam.

“Like hell you will.” scoffed Pritchard. “Your hero complex will get in the way before you can make it to the bar.”

Mac seemed to like what the hacker said as he leaned closer to him and nudged him in the shoulder, giving Adam a gleeful look: “Aren't you worried that he'll get stuck collecting loose credit chips again?” Upon noticing the Aug's stern expression, his mouth spread into a grin. “You're not as subtle as you think, Jensen. I know all about your kleptomania and knack for snooping around wherever you go.”

“Yeah, he just _loves_ to do that, always has as far as I know.” sneered Pritchard as he drank from his beer again.

Adam shook his head. MacReady and Pritchard getting chummy over making fun of him...great, so one of his worst nightmares really was happening. As tempting as cloaking himself and quietly stalking away was, he forced himself to speak: “You were wrong MacReady, it's the two of you that are insufferable.”

“A walking disaster, aren't we, Frankie?” proclaimed Mac jovially as he placed his hand around Pritchard's shoulders.

“Don't call me that.” hissed the hacker as he flinched away.

“Please do.” smirked Adam amusedly. This might be fun after all...

“Jensen, why don't you just shut up and head over to the bar to get yourself a drink like the notorious alcoholic you are?” grunted Pritchard irately.

“I see as many as two alcoholics here and I'm pretty sure none of them is me.” commented Adam dryly.

Pritchard made a face: “Look who's talking. If it wasn't for your health implant preventing you from getting drunk you'd be just as shit-faced as we are...if not more.” He pointed an accusing finger at him. “Don't bother trying to deny it, Jensen. I know how much you love your whiskey.”

Adam opened his mouth to retort only to be outran by MacReady: “Hold on a second there... Are you saying that Gear-head over here is such a pain in the ass because he can't get drunk?”

“His health system filters out any and all toxins so yeah, alcohol doesn't do shit for him.” nodded Pritchard. “He could down an entire bottle of liquor and be sober in about a minute or so.”

At that Mac snorted: “What? Are you serious right now?” He turned to Adam, his entire form now shaking with booming laughter. “Bloody hell, mate! Your life _sucks_! Why are you even at a bar?”

“The same reason you are.”answered Adam, unimpressed by both MacReady's antics and Pritchard's snide comments. It wasn't that he didn't expect them to pick on him, it just annoyed him a little more than it should have. Maybe grabbing that drink might be a good idea if he intended to get out of this encounter with his sanity intact... He turned to leave. “I think I'd like that drink now.”

Having that said, he headed in the general direction of the bar before either of them had a chance to respond. What was he getting himself into? Over time, he's learned to tolerate MacReady and he had a feeling that after London, the man has grown accustomed to him as well. If Adam had to guess, he'd say that saving Miller, the delegates and pretty much everyone else and then topping it off with taking down Marchenko finally impressed him enough to get him off his back. So yeah, the Brit was actually treating him much better these days but now that he was drunk and had Pritchard sitting at the table with him...the two of them combined were just too much. Especially with how the latter seemed to be out for his blood for cutting that transmission after the Palisade break-in.

Heaving a sigh, Adam pushed past the last guy that stood in his way and leaned against the counter, giving the bartender his order.

Pritchard just didn't understand, didn't realize that Adam cut all contact with him for his own good. It was too dangerous, downright foolish to keep in touch after everything that's happened. In the light of everything that was yet to come...

He nodded a thanks to the bartender as the drink was placed in front of him and passed her a few credit chips. It was double and he didn't even have to ask, how nice of her. Grabbing the glass, he headed back towards the table, back towards the disaster his ever-miserable luck cooked up for him. His current most obnoxious co-worker and former most obnoxious co-worker getting chummy over some beer and laughing at his expense...just a little while after they were at each other's throats. He shook his head. It was absolutely surreal...and ridiculous. Being honest with himself, mostly ridiculous.

Apparently, the two of them were getting even friendlier than he thought as he noticed that MacReady's moved his chair to sit next to Pritchard the moment their table came into view. The hacker didn't seem to mind at all as he was leaning towards him and listening to something he had to say, an amused grin plastered on his face. Adam approached them, mentally bracing himself for the possibility that he was still the topic of the conversation. Much to his relief, that didn't seem to be the case as the next few words he heard from MacReady were definitely about a woman.

“Honestly, mate, that's an obvious pair of fake ones right there! Just look at the size of them! I'm telling you, I'll eat my shoes if they're real!”

It took all but one glance towards the stage to confirm that they were indeed discussing the rack of the current dancer. Adam barely registered Pritchard's answer as he pulled up a chair to sit down. What he was perfectly aware of though was Mac's loud reaction to it.

“Oh come on! Hey, Jensen, what do you think?” the Brit asked him with a poke to the ribs. “Real or fake?”

“Don't know, wasn't really looking.” shrugged Adam. He genuinely saw no reason to as he was never the type to be interested in hookers. That and when it came to women in general, breasts were not his main focus.

Mac seemed to be amused by his answer as he immediately made a jab at him: “C'mon mate, live a bit! You keep this up and I'll be worried that you'll make your moves on _me_ one day.”

There was a loud sputtering sound as Pritchard started choking on his drink.

“Pretty sure I don't swing that way.” Adam replied, giving both of them an unimpressed look.

“Hey, we're just checking out the scenery here.” shrugged Mac. “Besides...” It seemed that something occurred to him as he suddenly stopped talking, his expression changing to a look of absolute disbelief. “Holy shit, Jensen! Did they take the bit between your legs too?”

At that, Pritchard roared with laughter. “I know it might seem that way, but no, they really didn't.” he said in between the chuckles. “His... _equipment's_ fine, he just-”

Mac placed a hand on Adam's shoulder, his look turning downright fatherly: “It's alright, mate. Not all of us can come in big size.”

Pritchard failed to finish what he was about to say and collapsed on top of the table, practically wheezing.

Mac nudged him in the shoulder, scolding him: “Hey, that's no laughing matter. A small dick can be a serious problem with the ladies.”

Adam groaned and facepalmed. This was even worse than discussing his health implant. His dick was _fine,_ goddammit! How many times in his life was someone going to ask him this obnoxious question? It was right where it was supposed to be and it was one of the few places on his body that had no augments whatsoever, if not the only such place. He shuddered at the thought of having Sarif cut it off and replace it with... Oh god, he could already hear him in his head...

_This is the latest, cutting-edge technology, Adam! It vibrates or pulses and it can do so at four speeds when you press this button on the side!_

He had to change the subject. Quickly.

“Thanks for your concern, MacReady, but my dick's both in the right place and of the right size.” he forced himself to say. Upon noticing that Pritchard was still laughing, he continued in a more sarcastic tone: “If there's anyone who you should be worried about it's Pritchard. He doesn't know how to get a one night stand, let alone an actual girlfriend.”

Just like that, the laughter ceased. Pritchard looked up at him, his expression a blend of unimpressed and snide. “I'll have you know that I do, Jensen. It's just that unlike you, I look for quality partners and those are quite hard to come by these days.” He scoffed. “That and women are stupid, they always go for the big macho kind of guys. Guys like you.”

“Ever considered that it might be your overly charming personality that's the problem?” asked Adam dryly.

“There's just never a dull moment with you two, is there?” grunted Mac irately. “Jensen, I'd shut it if I were you. Your personality wouldn't win any awards either and being honest, I wouldn't be surprised if you had cobwebs on your balls at this point. Seriously, if you don't want a relationship at least bang Aria already, she blushes like a school girl whenever you walk through the door.”

Pritchard chortled: “Ever the clueless. You wouldn't know a woman is interested in you even if she tattooed it on her forehead.”

“I'm not done talking, Frank.” grumbled Mac. “I really hope you are though because you're talking bullshit.”

“It's what he does most of the time.” commented Adam gleefully.

“Don't interrupt me, Jensen.” Mac snubbed him. “If you listen to what I have to say you might get yourself a date too. Who knows? Maybe you'll be less of a prick once you get laid. I know for sure that Frank here needs it. He's a good guy, somewhere deep down... Getting himself the right woman might make that side of him come out.” He turned back to Pritchard. “Listen, mate, when it comes to women you just need to know what to tell them is all. Unlike us, they function entirely on emotions, so make her feel appreciated. The rest will come naturally.”

“As wonderful as our talk has been so far I think I know how to pick up a woman on my own, thank you.” retorted Pritchard.

At that, Mac turned to Adam, shaking his head: “I take it all back, he really is a dick. I just can't decide which one of you is a bigger one.”

Adam raised an eyebrow: “And where are you on that list?”

“Me?” Mac chuckled in response. “Don't be silly, I've got charm coming out of my ass!”

“Right.” rumbled Adam incredulously while Pritchard made a theatrical eye roll and turned his attention back to his beer.

Mac chugged down the rest of his in a single, large gulp: “Well, lads, as fun as this has been I think I'm gonna head over to the bar for a refill...and make that fox of a bartender feel very much appreciated. 'Scuse me.”

He hauled himself up to his feet and pushed past both of them, sauntering away.

“And I thought you're an idiot.” said Pritchard, shaking his head at Mac's departing back.

“He had a few valid points.” shrugged Adam. “He just doesn't know how to talk to people without his ass-charm showing.”

There was an awkward moment of silence in which both of them stared into their drinks, trying to occupy their hands somehow. Adam started rummaging around in his pockets while Pritchard played with the pint, his long fingers rotating it back and forth. Fishing out his zippo, Adam lit a cigarette and was just about to put it back when Pritchard finally spoke up.

“Mind if I take one of yours? I'm all out.”

Without responding verbally, Adam pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and held it open in front of him. Pritchard took one of them and put it in his mouth, snatching the zippo from the table.

“Thanks.” he mumbled as he lit it.

“Mhm.” nodded Adam in response.

More awkward silence. Was it seconds? Minutes? Adam didn't know. He watched Pritchard out of the corner of his eye, taking a slow, lazy drag from his cigarette. It felt tempting to just flip on the CASIE and let it do all the work for him, but the hacker would probably see right through him the moment he'd open his mouth and he wasn't in the mood for another tantrum. Instead, he studied the marks left behind by MacReady. Judging by how dark and swollen the skin around Pritchard's eye was it seemed like the Brit really hit him hard, but still retained enough rationality not to go full berserk on him. Adam mentally shook his head at that. MacReady had one hell of a mean swing, had he thrown a punch he meant, Pritchard would probably be in a hospital right now. Thankfully, there were no other visible injuries as far as he could tell. Then again, with the other man fully clothed, the only skin he could see was his face, neck and hands...

“Since when do you pick physical fights with people?” he heard himself ask.

“Since when do you care?” countered Pritchard without looking at him.

“You're lucky it was MacReady you pissed off. Unlike most other people sitting here, he knows when to pull his punches.” Adam continued, ignoring the other man's question.

“Don't patronize me, Jensen.” objected Pritchard irately. “Punching people 'till they pass out has always been _your_ job.”

“My job, not my hobby.” countered Adam. “I don't go around punching strangers because they look at me funny.”

“Jensen, the epitome of restraint! Sorry to forget all about that one.” proclaimed Pritchard snidely. “How could I? It's what probably made you cut that transmission last time. You were worried that an Illuminati agent would show up at my door and kill me the moment I talked to you for more than a mi-”

“Then you know why I did it.” said Adam tersely. “I want-”

“Of course I do. You're an insufferable idiot with a hero complex, that's why.” grumbled Pritchard.

Adam opened his mouth to retort something right back at him only to be interrupted again: “Aww, mom and dad confessing their love for each other, how sweet.”

Mac pushed past Pritchard and pulled up a chair nonchalantly, plopping down to sit between them. He seemed to be very pleased with himself.

“How long have you been standing there?” inquired Adam with a raised eyebrow. He couldn't quite wrap his mind around how he failed to notice him all this time.

“Long enough.” answered Mac with a grin.

“Picked up that 'fox of a bartender' already?” prodded Pritchard.

Mac waved his hand dismissively: “Nah, she's a tough cookie to crack. I'm gonna have to start coming here regularly to make her budge. Even if I won't get her number, maybe she could at least tell me her name.” He wrinkled his nose, glaring at the two cigarettes which were now propped up against the ash tray, apparently forgotten. “Say, do you guys mind putting that shit out? You're not even smoking them as far as I can tell.”

“Tell that to Jensen, I'm definitely smoking mine.” objected Pritchard as he grabbed the cigarette which was closer to him and took in a long drag from it.

“Such a filthy habit...” grumbled Mac as he shook his head.

“You wouldn't even have anything to smoke if I didn't share.” objected Adam nonchalantly as he knocked off some loose ash from his and put it in his mouth as well.

“I swear to god, lads, you keep this up and I'll kick both of your asses to hell and back!” grunted Mac with frustration.

At that, Adam and Pritchard looked at each other like a pair of naughty school children. Pissing MacReady off like this was an opportunity that was just too good to pass up.


	2. Here we go again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh the pain of hangovers...we all know it, right?

Adam let out a quiet grunt as his body slowly started waking up. He wiggled around a bit only to find out that he had someone's arm thrown over him. Furrowing his brow, he opened his eyes and tried to prop himself up only to be pulled back into an insistent embrace. What the hell? Why was he sharing a bed with someone? Most importantly, why was he getting smothered like this? Scowling, he turned his head to find that the person holding him was Pritchard. Right... Now he remembered.

They were at the bar last night. At first, he was by himself, then MacReady came along telling him about a fight he had with Pritchard. They all ended up drinking together and giving each other hell until the point in which both MacReady and Pritchard were so drunk they couldn't see straight. At some point, they switched from beer to vodka. Not too long after that decision, Pritchard ended up crawling out of the bar and throwing up on the sidewalk while Mac, miraculously still capable of walking, came after him to tease him about how he can't hold his liquor. Since the hacker was incapable of making decisions for himself at the time, it was up to Adam to pay for whichever drinks still needed to be paid and drag him someplace safe. They ended up going to his apartment because he had no idea where Pritchard was staying and the hacker was incapable of saying a word, let alone giving him an address. Adam laid him down on the couch and once he made sure the other man was still breathing, went to take a shower. Once he was done, he headed for the bedroom only to find Pritchard passed out on the bed. It seemed like the hacker used the last bits of his strength to get to what he thought was his bed and fall back into a coma. Adam decided that he wasn't sleeping on the couch just because he had to take care of a drunken idiot and placed a bucket next to the bed just in case, right before laying down himself.

Apparently, Pritchard was the cuddly kind of drunk as Adam's next attempt at getting up proved just as futile as the last one. The hacker held him closer, mumbling unintelligibly. Adam couldn't help but roll his eyes. This was just too awkward to be true...

“Pritchard.” he tried as he pushed at him to let go.

The only answer he got was some more mumbling.

“Pritchard.” he insisted, pushing at him once more.

The hacker gripped him tighter, curling in on him.

“Let me go you drunk idiot...” Adam grunted, elbowing him to the ribs.

The harsh gesture finally seemed to have worked as Pritchard jerked awake with a gasp: “What?! Where...” Upon noticing the Aug lying in front of him, his eyes widened: “Jensen...? What the hell are you doing in my bed?”

“That's _my_ bed, Francis. You're in my apartment.” Adam corrected him.

Pritchard let out a pained groan and rolled over onto his back, shielding his eyes with his arm: “What-” He coughed. Apparently, his throat was totally dry. “What happened?” he rasped.

“You got completely wasted last night, that's what happened.” answered Adam as he got up.

“Oh god...” Pritchard wheezed. “Please tell me I haven't slept with you.”

At that, Adam raised an eyebrow: “Told you I don't swing that way.”

“My eye hurts...” grumbled Pritchard. “I don't...ugh...”

“Do you remember anything?” inquired Adam as he started walking towards the door. Pritchard obviously needed some water and it didn't look like he'd be able to get it himself anytime soon.

“Just bits and...ah! My head...” came the ragged answer.

“Does the name MacReady ring any bells?” Adam pushed on.

A moment of hesitation. “The British guy...yeah, I remember him...” said Pritchard at length.

Adam opened his mouth to answer but all that came out was a grunt as his foot suddenly came into contact with something that was definitely not supposed to be there. He tripped and fell,landing right on top of it. The thing, or rather, the person he landed on groaned with pain.

“Bloody...fuck!”

Adam propped himself up on his elbow staring at the man lying under him. Why was he not surprised?

“Good morning, MacReady.”

The Brit curled in on himself, clutching the place where Adam kicked him. “Fuckin' hell, Jensen! You almost cracked my rib!” he complained. “What in the blazes are your feet made of?”

“You don't wanna know.” answered Adam as he got up, careful not to step on him. “How did you get in here anyway?”

“Oh shit...” croaked Mac. “The stench coming out of my mouth...it's like a mass gave...”

Sighing, Adam looked him over. It seemed like his interrogation would have to wait. “How's your head?” he offered instead.

“Somewhere around 'please tell me I'm gonna die quickly'...how's that sound?” answered Mac as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Really bad.” commented Adam dryly. “Hang on, I'll get you some water.”

“Just put me out of my misery, it's not worth it.” groaned Mac.

“You're the one...to talk...” coughed Pritchard from the bed.

“Stop yelling for Christ's sake!” growled Mac, clutching his head with both hands.

Adam shook his head at the idiocy of both of them and just headed to the kitchen to bring them the water he promised. This was going to be a very long morning. Damn, what day was it?

“HUD on.” he rumbled.

It was Saturday, a little past 9AM. If he played his cards right he could still get to spend his Sunday all by himself and enjoy some peace and quiet. Comforting himself with the thought, he retrieved two glasses from one of the kitchen cabinets and poured them full. As he placed them on the counter he took a peek inside the fridge to find what he expected. Aside from a few beers and a carton of milk, it was completely empty. He scowled. A bowl of cereal was the perfect breakfast for him but for the two unwanted guests lying around in the back, not so much. Pritchard would probably throw that right in his face even if he wasn't suffering from a severe hangover. Mentally groaning with frustration, he grabbed the two glasses and headed back towards the source of his headache. MacReady was still lying where he left him, except now he was on his back and looking up at him with bloodshot eyes. Adam knelt down next to him and held out the glass.

“Drink up.” he said.

Mac accepted the glass with a weak nod and grunted as he used his free hand to prop himself up into sitting position. Slumping against the wall, he drank it all at once.

“Thanks, you can be a real pal when you want to be.”

“Don't push it, MacReady.” answered Adam as he got up to bring the second glass to Pritchard.

The hacker was still lying on the bed with an arm thrown over his face, his entire demeanor just screaming drama and pain. If Adam didn't have to take care of him the image would be borderline comical.

“Francis.” he addressed him as he stopped by the bedside.

Pritchard lifted his arm, giving him an agonized look. With a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whine, he pushed himself upwards and as he was half-sitting half-lying there, took the glass from him. After a barely audible 'thank you, Jensen' the water was gone in a single gulp.

“I'm gonna head off to get you something for breakfast. Just sit tight and try not to kill each other while I'm gone.” said Adam as he walked towards the closet to find a fresh set of clothes.

“The disagreement we had last night was pretty minor if you ask me.” shrugged Mac.

“Minor? You're calling this minor?” objected Pritchard as he pointed at his dark swollen eye.

“Jesus, Pritchie, I've met women tougher than you.” answered Mac with a half-grin. “You're overreacting, mate.”

Pritchard opened his mouth to retort only to be outran by Adam: “Weren't you two hungover just a second ago? I liked you much better when you were quiet and wallowing in your pain.”

“Hey, unlike the little princeling in your bed, I know how to handle a bit of a headache.” countered Mac vehemently.

“Well, at least I'm not a big hairy brute with an IQ level somewhere along the lines of a broken thumbtack.” sneered Pritchard.

“Hate to break it to you, Pritchie, but messing around with computers isn't exactly rocket science.” drawled Mac mockingly. “I bet I could do plenty of the stuff you do myself and then what? How will you be better than me, Sissy-boy?”

“Hey, you take that back!”

At that, Adam facepalmed and quickly walked past MacReady to get out of there. Grabbing his coat along the way, he stalked out of the apartment without saying a word. Why was he even trying? Why did he bother? He reached inside his pocket and lit a cigarette. Hopefully those two idiots would run out of energy by the time he got back.

The walk to the store was overly quiet and relaxing aside from a few stray insults thrown at him by some kids, nothing he wasn't used to or hasn't heard before. He didn't buy much, just one more box of his favorite cereal and two cartons of eggs along with some juice and a spare pack of cigarettes. It took him much shorter than he anticipated, upon checking his HUD he found out that he was gone just for a little less than half an hour. Mentally bracing himself, he headed up the stairs towards his apartment, hoping that the argument Pritchard and MacReady were having when he left was done. He wasn't in the mood for any more of their crap.

As he opened the door he was greeted by a second of absolute silence followed by some sickly noises coming from the bathroom. Knowing full well that he's going to regret it, he set the groceries down on the table and went to investigate. The first thing he noticed was that Mac was no longer slumped against the wall in the corridor. One quick glance at the bathroom door and he realized that it was open. Peeking inside, he found an image that looked like a scene from a bad movie. Pritchard was heaving into the toilet, his shaking hands clinging to the seat for dear life while Mac sat behind him with an expression probably best described as disgruntled, making sure the other man's hair stayed out of the way.

“Your pal Pritchard's having some hardware issues.” proclaimed the Brit the moment he noticed Adam in the doorway. “Good grief, Jensen, where do you find guys like this? Being friends with wimps, is tha- Ow! That's my bad knee you ungrateful piece of shit!”

Apparently, Pritchard still had enough energy to kick him for that remark.

Mac responded by tightening the grip upon his hair and pulling at it: “Careful Pritchie, might lose some hair along the way if you keep this up.”

“He's not the only one.” commented Adam snidely as he ran a hand through his own. So this was what having kids felt like... Leaving them to their squabbles, he headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Maybe if he cooked enough food for them they'd shut up for more than two seconds. Shrugging off his coat onto the nearest chair, he fished out an old banged up frying pan from one of the kitchen cabinets and got to work.

He'd barely managed to make the first batch of scrambled eggs when he heard footsteps behind him.

“Oooh, whatcha cooking, wifey?” inquired Mac as he approached him and...

Adam let out a surprised yelp and almost fell face-first onto the frying pan as the Brit slapped his rear. He gave the man a look that was half-incredulous and half-irritated: “Are you still drunk?”

Apparently, Mac's decided to ignore the question as he moved to the left and helped himself to the steaming plate on the counter: “Smells delicious... I would ask if it's for me first, but-”

“You wouldn't.” interrupted Adam with an eye roll. “If you're looking for a fork it's in the first drawer on your right.” he added as he cracked some more eggs and started stirring the resulting substance on the pan.

“Now you're really starting to sound like one of my ex-wives.” prodded Mac as he opened the drawer and started rummaging around in it.

“I just have this headache that comes and goes, it has a British accent and a terrible sense of humor.” proclaimed Adam with a nonchalant shrug.

Mac shook his head: “Jesus mate, at least I have a sense of humor to begin with. Why don't you do us both a favor and get one for yourself too?”

“How's Pritchard?” asked Adam in an attempt to change the subject.

“He'll live.” shrugged Mac as he headed towards the kitchen table. “But I don't think he'll be in any shape to eat.”

“Figures.” said Adam in response.

Another set of footsteps heading their way. Out of the corner of his eye, Adam noticed the pale, apparently miserable Pritchard in the doorway. He was unsteady on his feet, his hair a mess of tangles resembling a dead animal.

“Speak of the devil...” grinned Mac.

Pritchard moved to sit down at the table, apparently taking in the smell of the food Adam was making.

“This actually smells nice... I had no idea you could cook, Jensen.” he said, licking his lips a little.

“Anyone can make eggs, Francis.” shrugged Adam as he started moving the now fully cooked food onto a plate.

“Yes, but I've never seen you eat anything but cereal and Cyberboost bars.” Pritchard shot back. “Mostly my Cyberboost bars.” he added with a grunt.

“Wait...aren't those the special energy bars for hanzers?” asked Mac, waving his fork at him.

“They used to be...back when they still made them.” answered Pritchard cautiously.

Mac dropped the fork onto his plate and leaned over the table to take a closer look at him.

“So you're a hanzer too?” he inquired. “I don't see anything that would give you away.”

“Maybe I just ate them because I liked the taste.” said Pritchard with a raised eyebrow.

“You can drop the act, Francis. He's not asking because he wants to send you to Golem.” said Adam as he pulled up a chair and sat down, placing the steaming plate onto the table in front of himself.

“That doesn't mean he has to know everything!” objected Pritchard irately.

“So you _are_ augmented.” concluded Mac with an upward twitch of his lips. “Augmented and paranoid.”

At that, Pritchard turned to Adam, giving him an intense glare: “Were you two talking about me all this time?”

“No, I just pointed out the obvious.” chuckled Mac before the Aug had a chance to answer. “There's no need to be so goddamn defensive, Pritchie. We're just having a nice chat over breakfast.”

“Stop calling me that ridiculous nickname, MacReady.” demanded Pritchard, his voice now dripping venom.

Sensing another argument on the horizon, Adam quickly weighed in: “Want to try the eggs, Francis?”

Pritchard sighed with exasperation: “My god, Jensen, have you failed to notice that I was puking my guts out maybe a minute ago? No, I don't feel like eating anything.”

“Just trying to make you shut up before it's too late.” answered Adam snidely. “Both of you.” he added before Mac had a chance to comment on it. At first, he intended to leave it at that and hope for the best but then a glorious plot for revenge occurred to him. It was perfect, he was going to get back at MacReady for slapping him earlier and divert Pritchard's attention another way all at the same time.

“This is why you have three ex-wives, MacReady.” he proclaimed casually.

“You have three ex-wives and you had the gall to give us both dating tips last night?” asked Pritchard sounding half-incredulous and half-amused.

Adam tried his best to maintain a straight face, internally laughing his ass off. Pritchard responded with exactly the same words he imagined he would use.

“At least I had a wife at some point.” Mac tried to object, but it was apparent that he didn't like the turn the conversation was starting to take. When the only answer he got was Pritchard's shit-eating grin and Adam stabbing at his food with feigned disinterest, he continued: “You've got no idea what that's like. Duncan this, Duncan that... It's more hassle than it's worth.”

“That doesn't really lessen the irony.” prodded Pritchard, the grin never leaving his face. “Actually, it adds up to it, knowing that you keep teasing me about my name yet yours is...Duncan. Should I start calling you Dunkie now? Sounds kind of like drunkie...I think I like it, fits you perfectly.”

“Thought you were better than this, _Pritchie_.” Mac shot back, the last word a drawl more than anything. “I'd be careful if I were you, I don't take kindly to low blows.”

“Is that a challenge?” sneered Pritchard.

Adam got up from the table to make himself a cup of coffee. He would've preferred popcorn with the kind of scene that was about to unfold but he was going to have to make do with what he had. If he couldn't have some peace and quiet in the morning at least he would have peace, it certainly looked like the two of them would be at it for quite a while. Grabbing his favorite cup, he got to work. Let the verbal sparring commence!

 

* * *

 

**A few days later:**

 

Adam stirred in his sleep as he heard someone talking.

“Wakey, wakey, Jensen.”

Groaning, he rolled over onto his back.

“C'mon, I know you can hear me.”

He threw an arm over his face, trying to delay the inevitable wake-up.

“Not in the mood to talk to me? Well, too bad, you're gonna have to.” demanded the voice. That damn accent...

“What do you want, MacReady?” rasped Adam, his body still hanging somewhere between sleeping and being awake. “Why are you calling me?” he added the moment he opened his eyes and realized that the Brit wasn't actually in the room, but speaking through his infolink.

“Oh, just wanted to chat with one of my good pals before going to sleep.” proclaimed Mac cheerfully.

Adam groaned and sat up on the bed: “What time is it?”

“It's 2AM.” the infolink informed him, except this time the voice sounded rather nasally and downright gleeful.

Adam rubbed his face with both sleepiness and frustration: “Pritchard? How are both of you calling me at once?”

“We're not, it's just one call.” answered Pritchard dryly.

“Yeah, Frank's decided to crawl out of whatever shell he now calls home and came over to my place.” added Mac.

“So he's Frank now and you let him into your apartment? What happened to calling him Pritchie and claiming that he's a wimp?” inquired Adam, feeling genuinely surprised about such development.

“We just had a couple of beers together and came to an agreement.” answered Mac in that dangerously cheerful tone again.

“Ever heard the term 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend', Jensen? I'm sure you have.” purred Pritchard. “Don't think we haven't noticed what you did last time. We're not stupid.”

“I can't recall doing anything aside from taking care of your hungover asses.” countered Adam.

“Really now?” prodded Pritchard snidely. “ _This is why you have three ex-wives, MacReady._ Does that one ring a bell?”

“Smooth move, Jensen, I gotta give you that.” said Mac in a similarly sarcastic tone. “You must've loved it when we were at each other's throat for half an hour straight.”

“Right, so you're blaming me for the fact that you can't stand each other.” rumbled Adam in response.

“On the contrary, we just need some time to think of a suitable payback.” said Pritchard nonchalantly.

“Which brings us to our next topic, Friday night, the Red Queen, just like last time.” added Mac casually.

At that, Adam shook his head, believing that he didn't hear them right: “What?”

“We want you to go grab a drink with us on Friday, what part of that don't you understand, Jensen?” asked Pritchard in a tone that sounded like he's talking to a three-year-old.

“The part where I'm actually going to come.” Adam bit back.

“You are if you know what's good for you.” countered Mac.

“Because even if you don't show up, we know where you live.” said Pritchard bluntly.

Adam opened his mouth to object only to be outran by MacReady: “Look mate, we just think that it's pretty sad that the only fun you have in life is pitting us against each other. You should get some real hobbies.”

“Long story short, the sooner you agree the sooner you can go back to sleep.” proclaimed Pritchard, the sarcastic undertones in his voice somewhat dialed down. It almost sounded like he cared.

Adam sighed, running a hand through the mess that was his hair. After this conversation, he could see Pritchard and MacReady getting along just fine once they got past the initial snark battle and if they kept their drinking on a reasonable level, but why were they trying to drag _him_ into this? It wasn't like it was any of his business if they've suddenly decided to become friends...

“Jensen? Just say yes already. I don't want to have to kidnap you.” said Mac in a similar, almost-caring tone.

Adam let out a low grunt, contemplating his options. There really weren't any if the last thing MacReady said was true. He was either going to say yes right away or save it for when the Brit actually got serious about his threat.

“Alright, fine.” he grumbled at length. “One drink.”

“That's all we were asking for.” said Mac, the grin apparent in his voice. “Good night, Jensen.”

“Yeah, night.” answered Adam, trying to wrap his mind around what just happened.


End file.
